


Come Monday

by katertots



Series: Pictures Verse [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Failboats In Love, Fluff and Smut, Morning After, Morning Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 20:30:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5019355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katertots/pseuds/katertots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whatever she’s going to say she needs to figure it out in a hurry.  Peering down at her marked lack of clothing, she thinks maybe this whole morning after chat business could wait until she’s wearing more than just his Giants t-shirt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Monday

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is considered a sequel to my story Pictures of You, however, it can easily be read as a stand alone story.
> 
> Thank you to all my friends who looked at this along the way and gave me feedback. Special thanks to jadecharmer for beta'ing this for me. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Title is from the Jimmy Buffett song of the same name.

_Come Monday, it'll be all right  
Come Monday, I'll be holding you tight_

 

* * *

 

 

Darcy yawns, the weight of her body resting on her elbows on the edge of the counter. The fingers on her outstretched hand tap a quick staccato rhythm even as she sends a baleful look at the coffee maker, each drip of liquid gold slow to come. The city below is already annoyingly awake, much to her chagrin, with the sounds of brakes squeaking and horns blasting filtering through the small window in her kitchen. Her eyes are barely open, and she’s fairly certain it will take the entire pot this morning to get her motivated enough just to pretend to go through the motions of being an adult.

 

The final gurgle from the coffee pot is music to her ears and Darcy opens the upper cabinet, reaching for her favorite mug. Darcy can’t help the wince as muscles she wasn’t even aware she possessed protest the movement. Though just as quickly, a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, remembering how she acquired these aches yesterday. Just as she’s relishing that first sip, eyes half closed in bliss, Darcy hears the very reason for her tender muscles rustling around in her bedroom.

 

There’s a delightful fluttering low in her belly, warmth spreading through her veins that has nothing to do with the hot drink in her hands. Another sensation–one that feels too close to panic for her liking–quickly creeps in, settling at the base of her skull. That annoying prickle is a more effective jolt on her system than the coffee, though. Fully awake now, Darcy paces back and forth across the cold tiles, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and fretting over whether or not things will be awkward between them this morning now that they’ve had sex.

 

It’s not as though they didn’t have a long overdue conversation about things, they did– _eventually_. After round two. _Or was it three?_   Regardless, she knows that sometimes things said and done in the cover of night appear drastically different in the light of day. The bedroom door creaks open and the closing of the bathroom door follows soon after. _Shit._ Whatever she’s going to say she needs to figure it out in a hurry. Peering down at her marked lack of clothing, she thinks maybe this whole morning after chat business could wait until she’s wearing more than just his Giants t-shirt.

 

She considers slipping down the hallway to her bedroom for clothes and her suddenly misplaced dignity. Just as she’s about to make a dash for it, the bathroom door opens, freezing Darcy in her path, eyes wide when she hears his bare footsteps falling heavily on the hardwood floors in the hallway growing closer with each passing second. _Perfect._ Darcy pulls herself together, head held high because, whatever, she can rock this shirt. Going with the _fake it til ya make it_ approach to successfully navigate any potentially awkward morning after conversations, Darcy grabs another mug out of the cupboard and busies herself with preparing another cup of coffee for him, back purposely to the kitchen entrance.

 

Even without her eyes on the door, though, she knows the moment he enters, footsteps coming to a stop. In her mind, she can picture the light wrapped around him when he leans against the doorway, warm and soft.

 

“Mornin’,” Steve rasps, voice thick and graveled from sleep.

 

Darcy’s eyes fall shut, remembering the words that same deep voice murmured in her ear last night while he moved inside her. Her body remembers, too, given the thrill that shoots up her spine and the way her nipples harden like some sort of Pavlovian response. She clears her throat, determined to keep it cool and collected, and turns around.

 

“Good morning,” she greets brightly, internally wincing over how decidedly _not_ cool and collected she actually sounds.

 

A warm, lazy smile pulls up the corners of Steve’s mouth when he steps into the small kitchen, rubbing sleepy eyes and looking adorably mussed. And just like that, he’s thrown her off kilter again. It’s wholly unfair, she thinks, even with sheet marks lining one side of his scruffy face, and blond hair plastered across his forehead, how fucking _good_ he looks. Jesus. He’s so sexy it’s just ridiculous. She’s torn between wanting to playfully run her fingers through that mussed bed head hair and using the hold of her fingers on the strands to pull him down for an impromptu make-out session.

 

He accepts the mug and lets out a huge yawn, absently scratching his belly. Just like that, all thoughts cease as Darcy’s eyes can’t help but roam appreciatively over the broad shoulders and smooth planes of his bare chest, down to his trim, narrow waist. Steve’s hand rubs across the well-sculpted v-shaped muscles visible just above the waistband of his black boxer briefs, and it requires great effort on her part to lift her gaze to meet his. Her stomach gives a little flip at the crinkle in the corners of his eyes as he smiles at her over the top of his coffee.

 

Busted.

 

“See somethin’ you like?” Steve asks, mischief clear in his voice.

 

 _Cocky little shit._ Amused, Darcy huffs a laugh, then steals another sip from her mug, feeling the nerves that had threatened to settle in earlier fizzle and fade away. Clearly the answer is a resounding _oh god, yes,_ but she can’t let him have all the fun, or hold all the cards. She shrugs and wrinkles her nose. “Eh, you’re alright.”

 

She tips her head, eyes narrowing in analysis even as she indulges in looking Steve up and down one more time. For impartiality purposes, of course. “To be honest, you should probably put a shirt on.”

 

“Well, I would,” he starts, taking another step towards her, setting down his mug on the counter, “but I can’t find it. You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?” Steve’s eyes rake slowly over her body, lingering on her bare legs, a wicked smirk crooking up his mouth.

 

Glancing down in arch observation, Darcy toys with the hem of his t-shirt, lifting it just enough for him to glimpse the tops of her thighs. The gruff sound he makes in the back of his throat doesn’t go unnoticed. “Hmm. Nope, sorry. Found it on my bedroom floor this morning, so. By that rule it’s mine.”

 

Steve crowds in closer, taking the mug from her hands and placing it in the sink. “S’fuckin’ sexy,” he murmurs, meeting her eyes again. “You in my clothes.” His hands span her waist, thumbs tracing lazy circles against the soft fabric, warming her skin beneath.

 

The way he’s looking at her right now, honestly, make her think he’s about five seconds away from devouring her. And she’s 1000% about this. Warm from head to toe and a little breathless, Darcy loops her arms around his neck. “If you’re gonna look at me like that, I’ll wear more of them.”

 

“Deal.” He grins like she’s just given him the best gift. And really, should she feel this dizzy when he hasn’t even kissed her yet this morning? Then, Steve bends to neatly fit his lips against hers, slow and seeking. He hums against her mouth, and she all but melts into him, putting whatever dizzy feeling she had seconds ago to shame.

 

Darcy’s head tips back as Steve trails his lips over the hinge of her jaw, teasing kisses softly down her neck. “I had plans, ya know,” he says between kisses, breath warm and wet against her skin. His hands slip lower to grab her hips. She can’t think clearly enough to do anything more than hum with an upward inflection. “Was gonna wake you up with my head between your thighs. Spell out all the things I wanna do to you this morning.”

 

“Jesus, Steve.” Darcy groans, pressing her hips up, seeking friction where she’s desperate to be touched by him. She cards her fingers through his hair, smiling a little when he blows out a slow breath and leans into her touch. “Sorry I foiled that plan.”

 

Steve chuckles lowly against her neck and skims his fingers up the outside of her thighs, pulling up the t-shirt in their wake. He lifts his head to kiss her mouth, tracing her bottom lip with his tongue. “That was plan A. Already worked out a dozen more or so. M’good at plans.”

 

There’s a joke in there somewhere, but she’s too caught up in the moment to make it. His voice is one of the sexiest things about him. Especially when his lips are pressed to the shell of her ear, whispering dirty things, as she learned last night. So, hearing about all these potential plans? Seems like a pretty damn good idea. Actually acting on all these potential plans? Best. Idea. Ever. With that in mind, Darcy’s all in favor of Elvis-ing this scenario with a little less conversation and a lot more action.

 

One thing she’s learned about him in the time they’ve been friends is that Steve can’t resist a challenge. Which is why she reaches between them for the hem of her shirt and boldly peels it off her body, dropping it carelessly to the floor. “Prove it.”

 

He lowers his eyes to look his fill at her naked body. The groan he lets out completely thrills her (and turns her on, obviously). It also affirms her excellent decision making skills. Steve lifts his gaze to hers, and Darcy glimpses an air of arrogance and determination reflected in his eyes half a second before his lips crash down desperately on hers.

 

The kiss is hard and deep and messy. And god, he’s so good at this. They’re so good together. She thinks she could probably spend hours just kissing him and be totally content. But that’s something she’ll have to explore another time; she’s way past desperate for him to get her off this morning. His hands slide possessively down her back until he’s grabbing the backs of her thighs, lifting her off the floor in one seemingly effortless move. Darcy wraps her limbs tightly around his body and holds on for dear life while they do their best to kiss the breath out of each other.

 

Steve turns and presses her back against the refrigerator. Darcy squeaks when the cold stainless steel makes contact with her bare skin, and she tears her lips from his. “Shit! That’s cold!”

 

He’s almost as breathless as she when he smiles apologetically at her, then presses his lips to the corner of her mouth. “Sorry.” He drags one hand up her body to cup her breast, teasing the nipple with the pad of his thumb. Wrapping her legs tighter around his waist, she arches up into his hand. Steve licks a stripe up her throat, to her earlobe, tugging it between his teeth. “I’ll warm you up,” he murmurs into her ear, voice low. He plucks at her nipple, eliciting a shiver through her whole body.

 

Darcy can’t help the low laugh even as she pulls him closer. “Terrible line, Rogers, but you manage to pull it off.”

 

She’s not super patient on her best day, but if he doesn’t _get in her_ soon, she’s going to lose her goddamn mind. She’s on the verge of begging, and well past the point of caring about it. She rolls her hips once, twice, low against his stomach, but the friction isn’t enough; she wishes there was less of a height difference right now so she could feel how hard he (hopefully) is for her. There’s no possible way he misses how wet she is for him. “Steve, c’mon,” she nearly whines. “Fuck me.”

 

Steve makes this deep, gruff sound in the back of his throat, and squeezes her ass. “Gonna eat your pussy first. Wanna feel you come all over my face.”

 

“God. Do it,” she pleads. She expects him to put her down and sink to his knees, or maybe set her on the counter and press her thighs open. But this is Steve Rogers she’s dealing with here, and really, she ought to know by now to expect the unexpected.

 

Darcy squeals when he lifts her higher up in the air and drapes her legs over his broad shoulders, quickly pressing her back against the refrigerator once more. Her hands scrabble for something to hold on to when he bows his head and kisses the inside of her thigh. Steve licks a tortuously slow line up her center with the flat of his tongue, and she accidentally knocks the plastic pitcher that resides on top of the fridge clattering to the floor.

 

“Fuck,” she swears sharply, grabbing the back of his neck to pull him closer.

 

Steve sucks her clit into his mouth and hums against her, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure up her spine. Another groan escapes her lips and her fingers tangle in his hair. Her vision starts to blur while he works her with his tongue, alternately swirling and flicking against her folds and nerves. She watches him beneath lowered lashes, his eyes dark and trained on her face; then he smirks against her, smugly quirking up an eyebrow.

 

It’s fine. He’s earned smug. _Christ_ has he earned it. She’s long suspected that the super strength would pay off in amazingly fun ways, but this is fucking medal-worthy.

 

She’s already so, so close; she moves her hips in tight, desperate circles against his mouth, chasing the release that is furiously building low in her belly.

 

“Steve,” she begs, tugging on his hair as her thigh starts twitching. That’s her tell, and it seems he picked up on that last night. He slips two fingers unceremoniously into her heat and sucks on her clit. That’s the final push she needs to come undone. Color blooms behind her eyes, her body arching off the fridge as her orgasm shoots through her body. She cries out, high-pitched, broken sounds, and he continues gently lapping at her while she rides it out, the wave of tension finally melting away, leaving her body warm and sated.

 

“Unreal,” she mutters.

 

Steve peppers light kisses over both thighs, then slides his hands up to wrap around her waist and lower her back down to her feet. Darcy tilts her head back to look up at him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown with arousal, his mouth still slick with hers. Reaching between their bodies, she strokes the length of him through his underwear, and grabs his neck to pull him in for a kiss, chasing the taste of herself on his tongue. He stutters forward slightly, slapping one palm on the fridge to keep them both upright.

 

“Darce,” he pants after breaking the kiss, “ya gotta stop or I’m gonna come in my shorts.” Enjoying the upper hand, she kisses down his neck, nipping at his collarbone, and rubbing her thumb purposefully over the head of his cock. She relishes the groan he makes as he bats her hand away. “Wanna come while fucking you.”

 

She’s not arguing, but they need some protection and she doesn’t keep that in the cookie jar. That suddenly feels like the biggest oversight ever on her part. “Bedroom,” she says.

 

He shakes his head. “Here.” Darcy opens her mouth to argue, but then sees the foil packet he’s magically produced from the waistband of his underwear. Steve grins and kisses the shocked expression from her lips. “Told you I had a plan.”

 

“Your plans are the best,” she says, a little breathless as she hooks her fingers in the elastic and tugs his underwear down over his hips in one fell swoop. His cock bounces freely, glancing the soft skin on her stomach. Darcy takes the condom from his hand, and looks up at him through her lashes. “Let me.” He swallows hard and nods.

 

Once the condom is in place, he covers her hand with his, guiding it up and down his shaft a few times. It’s so hot, watching their hands working together like this. That’s something she definitely wants to explore with him another time.

 

Steve guides her hand off him and kisses her, long and slow, before hooking his arm under her right knee, drawing it up to press her open. He touches his forehead to hers and grabs the base of his cock, dragging the head up and down her entrance. Darcy whimpers over his expert teasing, curling her fingers around his shoulders, nails biting into his skin.

 

“You are so damn gorgeous,” he rasps. The absolutely filthy groan that follows as he slides slowly into her nearly makes her come again.

 

The tattoo of his hips between hers is far gentler and more controlled than she’d expect of him at this point in the game. Or, you know, for getting fucked up against a refrigerator in general. Every push and retreat creates a delicious friction between their bodies as her second orgasm of the day starts building low in her belly.

 

Steve lifts her other leg off the floor, bracing his hands against the stainless steel to support her weight, and drives himself deeper inside. Darcy gasps, and wraps her arms tighter around his neck, feeling the beads of sweat dotting his skin.

 

“So good, Steve,” she says, angling her hips up to feel more of him. “I’m so close.” His rhythm falters, finesse giving way to the release he’s chasing, hips snapping harder and faster against hers. He squeezes his eyes shut, and she can tell he’s trying to hold back his own release until she comes again. A few more thrusts, angling both his hips and hers to hit her just right, and her orgasm sparks. Moments later, Steve buries his face against her neck, breath hot on her skin, as his own release takes hold and he comes inside her.

 

Steve stills his hips, and lifts his head to press a sweet kiss against her mouth. He lets out a happy, contented sigh before slipping out of her body and setting her back on her feet. She shamelessly enjoys the view of his bare ass when he turns to toss the condom away.

 

“You really know how to make Monday morning better, Rogers,” she teases. “Though I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be a total failure on getting any work done today since this is all I’ll be thinking about.”

 

He smiles over his shoulder and stoops to pick up his discarded boxers. “Maybe you should call in sick today. You’re looking a little flushed.” He presses the back of his hand to her forehead. “And you’re so warm.”

 

Darcy nods along, goofy grin playing at the corner of her lips over how adorable and ridiculous this man is, how much he can turn her on and make her melt in a single second. She lets the grin bloom, Steve’s expression warm in return. “You know, spending all day in bed probably would make me feel better.”


End file.
